Lost and found is my eureka! blog, my rediscovery of my short fiction and poetry submissions published in literary magazines and university literary journals some decades ago. Interspersed, occasionally, with more recent, hitherto unpublished pieces.
The gardens, muted of colour form, texture, fragrance are now a collapsed architecture, delighting us no longer as fall deepens into garden-bleak winter.
Gone the thriving, brilliant choreography, the boundless exuberance of bulbs and tubers bursting into flower, the shrubs and fruit trees showering petals transformed into luscious fruit.
The garden now is pallid, exhausted, its summer audition long past, the chorus of blooms extinguished, no encores as the final departure of leafy canopy has descended echoing dismay.
The curtain is prepared now to fall. The last bow and curtsy executed as nature asserts sovereignty. Casually deflects assumptions our efforts reflected ownership of carefully plotted, nurtured triumphant gardenscapes.
There is no perpetuity here, merely the gardener's eccentricity in believing they exerted control over the order of their gardening efforts. A brief, illusory delusion, a borrowed vision, a hallowed trust now returned to nature and winter's ascendancy.
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